


Helpless

by tilda



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Crossdressing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-28
Updated: 2009-11-28
Packaged: 2017-10-03 22:07:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tilda/pseuds/tilda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh well, thought Harry, you win some, you lose some. Draco had opened the parcel that morning, hooked one stiletto on the end of his finger and drawled, 'You <i>are</i> joking, aren't you Potter.'</p><p><span class="small">Written 05/06</span></p>
            </blockquote>





	Helpless

**Author's Note:**

> Commentfic inspired by [this drawing](http://lillithium.livejournal.com/31313.html#cutid1) by Lillithium.

Oh well, thought Harry, you win some, you lose some. Draco had opened the parcel that morning, hooked one stiletto on the end of his finger and drawled, 'You _are_ joking, aren't you Potter.' It hadn't been a question. Harry knew he had lost. He tried not to let the disappointment get to him. Much.

He'd just got home and spread the _Prophet_ on the kitchen table, when the lights suddenly went so low he couldn't read the print. 'Hey! Put the light…'

'Hard day at the office darling?'

The voice was deep, slow and slid over his skin like molten honey. Harry turned round.

Holy mother of Merlin.

Draco was leaning in the doorway in the skirt, the stockings, the heels, and, Harry was willing to bet, nothing else. Draco glanced at his nails, and idly let his knee fall to one side, the skirt drawing tight across his crotch. Harry felt something hollow out inside him.

He shoved his chair away from the table and, without getting up, turned towards Draco. Draco sauntered over and sat on Harry's lap. At first Harry didn't dare touch. He drew his gaze all the way over Draco's body to meet Draco's eyes, which were looking directly into his. He could see the mockery in them, but something else too, something maybe Draco himself hadn't expected. Harry let his hands, which had been hovering over Draco's thighs and arse, make contact with the fabric. He slid one hand down the skirt until he could just feel the silk of the stocking covering Draco's leg. He looked up into Draco's eyes again.

Draco brought his mouth to within teasing distance of Harry's.

'How do I look?' he breathed, looking down at Harry through heavy eyes.

Harry's lips made some sort of shape, but no words came out.

Draco tipped his head to one side in mock-thoughtfulness.

'Hot?'

Harry nodded, feeling increasingly stupid.

'Dirty?' Draco whispered. Harry nodded mutely again.

Then Draco moved further forward and Harry felt the vibrations as he growled quietly against his ear, '_Fuckable_?'

Harry's brain evaporated.

He whimpered and shoved his hand all the way up Draco's skirt. He lunged for Draco's mouth, knocking his glasses askew. But he didn't care what a helpless prat he looked, didn't care that Draco turned him into an idiot, he didn't care, not when his fingers had just skidded off the stockings onto the flesh of Draco's inner thigh; not with Draco's thighs and the skirt all up his arm like a hot glove; not with Draco's thumb on his chin and the promise of Draco's mouth full against his any second now.


End file.
